


Loss

by Mykingdomforacupoftea



Series: Made for each other [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Grief/Mourning, Human AU, I take prompts, M/M, Short Stories, meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:27:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26374201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mykingdomforacupoftea/pseuds/Mykingdomforacupoftea
Summary: Sam is praying, trying to forget the pain. A man enters, yelling in the church, cursing God and humanity.
Relationships: Lucifer/Sam Winchester
Series: Made for each other [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1916677
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	Loss

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lot of ideas for these two, but sometimes I don't want to develop them into long stories. And I wanted to make some meet-cutes.  
> I want to see them meet and fall in love under different circumstances, because in any universe, they're made for each other. (except in the canon, but who cares ? ^^)  
> I take prompts if you want something ! I'll do my best at least.

Loss

Sam sniffs again. He tries hard not to cry every time, but he can’t help it. It’s still too raw, too painful. He can’t believe she’s gone. It’s not fucking fair and he would like to ask someone up there if this isn’t a mistake, but he knows it’s just like that, and that there’s nothing he can do. Jess is dead, and he feels lost, guilty even. It’s not his fault of course. Everyone told him, and himself knows that for a fact. But he can’t help but thinking he should have been there for her, because he knows that once she takes her pills she’s out light a light and nothing can wake her. Not even a fire drill. Not even smoke or heat it seems. Dean had supported him these last months, and he’s better. But he’s better because he can’t be worse than at the beginning. He was down, so down he doesn’t even know how he made it. There are a lot of things he doesn’t remember. He knows he spent a lot of time in his bed, trying to sleep and forget. On his couch, staring at the ceiling.

So he goes to a small church he had found when he began dating Jessica. He always liked it, the wooden pews, the beautiful coloured glass and the intimate atmosphere. He goes often. It soothes him, and it makes him leave his flat. There are very few people in general and he likes the quiet. It’s late anyway, so there’s only the priest, who will come to close in maybe half an hour. He’s not sure, he never came that late.

He’s praying to angels, like his mother taught him. Maybe Jess is in Heaven, in a better place, like they said. He hopes so. He’s picturing her in a white toga with wings when he hears shouting. He startle and turns. A man entered the church and he’s yelling, cursing at God and humanity. He looks tall, even hunched like he is, walking with difficulty, dirty blond hair, unshaved, maybe forty-something. He looks drunk and mostly, he looks sad. His shirt is not correctly buttoned and he looks like he rolled himself in dust. He stops in front of the altar, looking at the giant crucifix then at the ceiling. He’s still shouting.

“It’s not fucking fair, you hear me ? It’s not fair! You don’t have the right to do that ! You can’t! Fuck you, God ! Why?”

He has no idea what he’s talking about, but it’s like someone plugged his brain in a speaker and is diffusing his thoughts aloud.

“I’m done with that, I’m done with you ! I did everything I could, I only asked one thing ! One ! Why did you have to take him?”

His voice breaks at that and he drops on his knees, hands on the floor. His laboured breath is loud in the small church. Sam recognizes himself when he heard the few words that changed his life. It’s infectious and his eyes are tearing up again. He wonders who that man lost. He gets up and he slowly make his way towards the man on the floor. He looks up and he seems like he’s going to lash out again, but he takes in Sam’s face and he calms down.

They stay next to each other for a few minutes. Sam would like to say something, but if he tries to talk he’s going to cry and his throat is already burning with the strain from fighting the tears – which are leaving wet trails on his cheeks already, but at least he’s not bawling like a baby. He does let it out sometimes, when he’s home, but it’s tiring, leaving him drained for the rest of the day and it’s almost worse, because it doesn’t change anything. He takes deep breaths, trying to focus on the presence next to him.

“They say it gets better with time.” His tone is hesitant, more a question than an affirmation.

“It doesn’t.” The man answers.

His eyes are puffy and he doesn’t look that drunk once you take a closer look at him. His sits on his heels and ruffle his hair with a hand. He wears a wedding ring, Sam notices.

“I’m Sam.” He offers.

“Lucifer.”

It’s an odd name and he wonders if it’s his real name, but it doesn’t matter. His eyes are very blue, his gaze intense. He’s only a bit shorter than him once he holds himself upright. His buries his hands in his pocket after wiping his eyes on his sleeve.

“I thought I was alone.”

There’s an apology somewhere behind the words. Sam doesn’t mind the yelling. On the contrary, it gave him some catharsis, as if he had been the one doing the shouting. The priest comes in and tells them he’s going to close the church. They found themselves at the door, stepping in the chill of the night. It’s a pleasant night, the moon peaking out from behind a cloud.

“I’m hungry.” Sam says.

He hasn’t eaten all day, once again. It happens less and less, but sometimes the grief comes back and he’s too down to function properly. Lucifer answers that he knows a small place where they make good falafels. They end up there, barely speaking apart from the short comments about the food. He finds Lucifer’s presence comforting.

They see each other again, in the church. Sam begins to come at night. Lucifer doesn’t yell anymore and goes straight to Sam now. They sit next to each other, staring into space, silent. They eat together. It’s easy to be around each other. They don’t expect anything, they know what the other is going through. They don’t try to put up a happy face or to pretend that they’re alright. They’re really not. But without noticing, it does get better. They begin to talk more, about everything. They laugh sometimes.

He starts talking about Lucifer to Dean one day, without paying attention. His brother is glad that he has a friend. He doesn’t really go out with anyone anymore. He doesn’t talk to Dean about Jessica. He did it at first, and he doesn’t want to bother him. He tells Lucifer about the fire, about Jessica, about her laugh and her eyes, about their wedding which should have been two months ago. Lucifer doesn’t say anything at first, listening with attention. One night they’re in Sam’s flat, slouched on the couch with beers and pizza, and Lucifer tells him about his son, Jack, who died not long after his seventh birthday. He also mentions his wife, who died when she gave birth to their son, but he doesn’t linger on that. It’s still too soon.

He doesn’t know when it happens or how. They kiss one day, slow but deep. It’s nice and they hold each other tight before falling in bed. It’s different from what he’s used to, but it feels right. He wakes up wrapped in Lucifer’s arms and this time, the tears gathering in his eyes are from relief.


End file.
